


Horns

by rhiner



Series: Horns [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Fantasy, Gen, How Do I Tag, Modern Era, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, References to Drugs, Violence, Warnings May Change, no really how do i tag this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:27:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29565408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhiner/pseuds/rhiner
Summary: Missing parents, a mysterious letter calling you to some run-down mansion, and a sense of impending doom?Just your normal Sunday evening.[updates frequently]
Series: Horns [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2172027
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> some notes before we start here
> 
> 1.  
> this fic is very inspired by pieces of media like monster hunter, but we tried to make this as original as possible.  
> 2.  
> this is personally my first time writing semi-original work, so it might seem a little stiff in places.  
> 3.  
> i want your criticism. give me your criticism.  
> 4.  
> the first chapter is a prologue of sorts.

Stepping off the train, my steps thudded against the concrete. The night air filtered through my respirator and reeked of exhaust and pollution. I stifled a cough and left the nearly empty train station. The infernal lights of the city burnt my eyes, everything brightly colored and neon. Everything was loud, cars driving by, advertisements playing off of screens on buildings and TV's in windows. The people didn't help, trying to speak louder than the ambient noise.  
Between the lush green jungles of my home to the long spiraling concrete jungle that is this city, I prefer home. Of course, I didn't come here to torture myself with this awful environment. I have a debt to a resident of this city, and by extension, appearances to keep up.  
The bag on my back is jostled as I move through the swarms of people. Many look at me with fear or confusion, or perhaps a mix of the two. It's only natural to be frightened when someone with their face completely covered by a respirator, goggles and various trinkets walks by. I paid them no heed. I don't need to bring attention to myself, especially with what I'm carrying.  
  
Moving through the crowds swiftly, I broke away into a suburban area. One of those richer areas, I believe. The further down the road I go, the more expensive looking the houses become, starting to look like well-off homes to mansions.  
Eventually, a run-down mansion stands in front of me. Examining it would reveal that the rot, mold, and broken wood is all still where it was last.  
Would it kill a man to keep up public appearances?  
Approaching the building, the front porch creaks as it struggles to support my weight. I let myself in, and the area is shrouded in darkness. Nothing is beyond this veil, and I know from experience that attempting to move through it will result in confusion.  
"I have your material." My voice sounds especially stuffy today. Hopefully, the sound is covered by the natural distortion of my respirator...

Soon, the veil is lifted, and the true nature of what I was looking at is revealed. A well-lit hallway, leading to a sitting room. I can sense the old man's presence from here.  
My boots thud against the wooden flooring, and as I enter the room, the old man stood near some posh-looking chairs.   
Nobody remembers his real name, and he doesn't bother to tell anyone. His age clearly shows, wrinkles on full display, and his long hair turned snow white. I'm not sure if the senior has horns, as he never displays them... but even if he didn't have them, I would still hesitate to not be respectful. Aside from that, he seems to always be wearing a dark suit, reminiscent of butler attire. Though, saying that would imply that he's humble with his clothing... he clearly isn't.   
I take my bag off my shoulders, unzipping it and revealing its contents. A small jug of liquid sits at the bottom of the bag,  
I hand it off to the old man, and he simply nods. 

Slinging the bag back over my shoulder, I turn to leave. Normally that's where our interactions end. I hand off the liquid, he nods, I leave.  
Something stops me, though. Childlike curiosity, I suppose. Though, hasn't... 'curiosity killed the cat?' Was that literal or a metaphor? No matter.  
Turning back around in the door frame, I look the old man in the eye.  
"Why do you need so much of this material? On a monthly basis, no less."  
The old man remains silent. So much for that. I turn back and start to leave.  
  
"They'll arrive shortly, hatchling."  
That cuts clean through my thoughts. Feign ignorance.   
"...Sorry, who?"  
"I believe you know who I speak of."

This... this is bad. If the old man is telling me this... it must be real. It's actually happening. Sweat runs down my back. My horns, hidden with a seal, I can feel pulsing, trying to free themselves. They pulse in time with my heartbeat.  
"...When...? When are they coming?"  
"Soon. I must urge you to inform all you know, even if they call you mad."  
"..."  
"...Return soon... perhaps in two weeks. I'm aware this breaches our agreement, but I believe an event such as this takes precedent over a silly debt."  
"...Understood..." I turn and leave. Stepping out onto the porch, it takes all my might to not give into my primal fear and start running as quickly as I can.  
  


  
~ Horns ~


	2. Chapter 2

A fist is all that makes up my vision. Five knuckles, all going toward my forehead. This is gonna hurt.  
That's what if I would have thought, if I was a pussy.  
I step backward, and the punch completely misses me. This guy... he's a fuckin' amateur! He's completely vulnerable, and I'll gladly take that opening to open a can of _whoop-ass_ on this idiot.  
I step forward, winding my arm up and my fist connects with the side of my enemy's head. He gains a bit of air from the punch alone, and the look on his face singlehandedly makes my day.  
  
He groans in pain, and gets back into his stance. "Lucky hit. C'mon, little lady! Gimme your best shot!" He slurred his words, but I got the message. I don't respond.  
This asshole... does he even know who I am? 'Little lady?' Who does he think he is, insulting me like that?! On my turf! The balls on this guy! I'll make sure he doesn't walk for a week!  
I approach, fists up, and to say that I'm ready to knock the lights out of this guy is an understatement. I'm ready to shatter the damn lightbulb powering his tiny little brain.  
  
The buzz of the streetlights above me fades out, and my mind abandons any other thought. I'm completely focused on this fight. Every fight, I fight like it's my last. Never underestimate anyone, especially a drunkard like this guy. He may pull a knife or a gun, and suddenly, I'm good as dead.  
I pace to the left and right, looking to see if he tries anything. A tensing of his leg tells me he's about to step with his left, and most likely try to hit me with his right fist.  
  
Just as I thought, his left foot moves forward. I side-step to his right, step forward. My left-hand moves and hits him in the side of the mouth. He stumbles backward, and I push the advantage, landing two quick hits on his gut. He falls over, and I watch his hands. They fall to the ground, and make no attempt to go to the pockets. Good. I kick him in the side and scoff.   
"Serves ya right, you prick. Don't fuck with me."  
  
The buzz of the streetlights return, and I walk off. Maybe it wasn't _exactly_ the best idea to go for a walk in the dead of night, in the bad part of town near a bar. Though, I guess it's his fault that he tried to pick up the first thing that looked like a woman. It was also his fault that he tried to pick me up of all people, especially when I'm in a bad mood. Not to say that I'm always in a bad mood, just... something came up. I take out the envelope from my jacket pocket. It was sealed with wax and had a strange insignia on it, and it had my name on the back in full cursive. _Esther Estrellia_.  
  
I didn't bother opening it to read the letter. I remember it clearly... enough. Something about someone knowing why my parents disappeared eight years ago, and them needing me to show up at some abandoned mansion. How do I know it was an abandoned mansion? Well, they included fucking coordinates, and I looked it up. If it wasn't the shadiest thing I've ever seen, then I need to go figure out what shady actually means.  
Normally, I would've just disregarded the letter... but what if they really know about my parents?  
  
Besides, it's not like I can't defend myself. Did you see what I did back there? I was fucking awesome!  
Aside from that... I really have no choice. I have to go to that damn mansion, because if I don't, I won't find out about what happened to my parents. And if it's just a lie, and they want to kill me?   
I'll just fight my way out of there. They couldn't kill me if they wanted to!  
I brought out my phone, and went on my way to the mansion with a grin on my face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> introducing: esther estrellia, a positive person who isnt afraid to throw hands every now and then


	3. Chapter 3

I can hear two people outside my door. They're whispering, probably thinking that I can't hear them.  
I can hear them perfectly.  
"What do we do about Rayet...? He skips school every day, and... he's really just a handful. I-I don't want to sound like I don't like him, he's a joy to work with when he's being co-operative... but... it's tiring, trying to wrangle him every day."  
"We could... send him off to a different orphanage?"   
"No...! That's an awful idea."  
  
"Then what do you propose we do? Just let him do whatever and when we let him go, he starves on the streets?"  
"I... I don't know. I truly don't know. M-Maybe we transfer him to a private school?"  
"...Do we even have the money for that?"  
"...No..."  
"Then... I don't know what we do about him, aside from sending him to a different orphanage."  
  
"...I'll... I'll think of something. Don't move him."  
"You sure? I will have to step in if his situation doesn't change."  
"I'm sure."  
"Alright... I'll believe you."  
They walk away from my room, in different directions. The floorboards make a little creak as they do so.  
  
Quietly, I crawl out of my bed, padding across the floor to the closet. Opening it, is the fruit of my plans.   
A backpack, filled with enough resources I need to survive for a week. Spare clothes, food that I smuggled from the kitchens, and tools from the shed in the woods. I grab the bag, slinging it onto my back. I can barely feel the extra weight.  
I put on my shoes... actually, that could be a problem. The holes near my toes are getting larger. Thankfully, it's not winter yet, but I need to replace them... soon.  
  
I head over to the window, and see my mirror. One last look, I guess.  
Getting into the view of the mirror, my face is far too clean. Any scarring that I had before I was brought here has faded away, and my hair looks far too clean. It also looks too short. The two bangs that typically need to be tied into submission with twine just look like tiny fangs as of now.  
All of this will be fixed.  
  
I look away from the mirror, and return to what I was doing. Opening the window slowly is a pain, as I really just want to open it and get out of here. But I can't let anyone know that I'm leaving... they'll look for me. I need a headstart.  
Eventually, the window is fully opened, and the night air is flowing into the room. I get my foot onto the windowsill, and in one quick motion, my other foot rises up, and I'm out of the room. Emboldened, I start to run off, but something stops me.  
  
I turn around, and the orphanage that I had to call my home for five years stands there. I think of my experiences in that place... the dedicated caretaker that was assigned to me was basically a mother to me. She treated me like my own son, yet... something was off. Perhaps because it was her job to treat me like her son. I could tell she did her best, but... memories of my birth mother kept interfering. Nothing could ever top her... I remember that she knew exactly how to solve all my problems, like the time I broke my leg while climbing trees.  
  
She didn't scold me, or yell, or even be afraid that I might die. She simply sat with me as father came to help me, saying... what did she say? I rack my brain, but I can't remember her response. Surely... surely it was something like...  
"I was wondering when you would break your first bone."  
Surely.   
I shake my head. Remember what you're doing. I turn around again, and run through the empty suburban streets.   
  
Why am I running from my home? This letter. I... I think it had my name on the back of the envelope. It was in this loopy handwriting, and the name seemed unfamiliar.   
_Erik Hutchesson._   
If that's what my parents really named me, I can't help but be disappointed. Which one of them thought that they should name their son such a boring name? What kind of name is "Erik" anyway? That's not the name of a fierce predator in the woods. That's the name of some idiot in society, doing nothing with his life.  
  
Now, Rayet? Rayet is such a better name. That's the kind of name you fear when you're out in the woods telling stories to your hunting friends.   
_"The legend of Rayet, the ultimate hunter..."_ A shiver goes down my spine, thinking of the legacy I'll leave behind with a name like that.   
I read in a book that Rayet is the second word in a type of star. Wolf-Rayet stars, they're called.  
It sounded cool, so after years of not having a name, I adopted it as my own.  
  
The letter. Right. It... well, I couldn't really read it. I actually had to stare at the letters for a while, and try writing down what they looked like into the normal English letters so I could understand it. Opening the letter afterward, well, I just gave up. There was so much of it that needed translating, and... I just couldn't.  
It gave me coordinates somewhere though, so after hours of fiddling around with those stupid machines they have at the orphanage, I found where the coordinates led to compared to the orphanage. It was a big abandoned house, surrounded by nice-looking houses. I spent mere moments memorizing the path to the place, and it's been ingrained in my brain ever since.  
What am I going to do there, once I get there?  
  
...Uh... I... I don't actually know. I guess I'll figure out who lives there, and try to get them to read the letter to me. I really can't read what the text says. If they casually wrote a name on a letter and it found it's way to me, I needed to figure out what they know about me. Or my parents.  
My parents one day just... disappeared. I was eight years old when it happened. One day, they were there, the next? Poof. Gone. Without a trace. Didn't even leave a letter.  
  
When I went to the front yard of my house, the grass was completely covered in blood. Large weapons were left in the grass, yet, no bodies were left behind.  
Something, or someone, came to try and kill us. Something went wrong, and now my parents have been missing for over eight years.  
My response?  
  
Run away. Run into the woods, and never return to society.  
At least, that was the plan until someone saw me running around in the woods behind their property four years later. A massive police search was raised for me, and eventually, I got caught, and sent to the orphanage.  
Believe it or not, I've been trying to find information about my parents. But not having a last name makes it really difficult. But... someone's contacted me. They know my name, and I need them to read the letter to me.  
  
Getting out of my own head, I look up, and the big house stands in front of me. It's all disgusting looking, and a tough-looking girl stood on the front porch, tapping her foot against the rotten wood. She wore a cropped jacket, a white undershirt, and jeans. Standard looking, for a person. Her hair though? Something else. Short black hair, messy all over. It curls at the ends somewhat, and the ends are colored blue... I haven't seen anything like it before.  
I make my way up to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> introducing: rayet, a person who was separated from society during childhood, and now that hes back in society, he wants nothing to do with it


	4. Chapter 4

Her hands slam onto the plastic table, rattling the entire surface.  
"Where the _FUCK_ is the money, Siddhis?!"  
"I'm workin' on it. Don't get your panties in a twist..." I sigh. This bitch is so impatient. "I'm not magical, I can't manifest money into my hands when I need it."  
The dim lightbulb above me sways lightly. Back and forth. Every time I've seen it, it's swaying. Just like me, I suppose. Always in motion, never stopping.  
  
"Well, then when are you getting the money?! I can't sit around here waiting for your dumbass every day!"  
"I get the money when I get it."  
She grabs the collar of my shirt, raising it slightly upward. I keep my neutral look on my face. "Get. It. Soon." She isn't even that intimidating. That snarl on her face? Forced. One hundred percent. She releases her hold on my shirt and leaves the room.  
  
Groaning, I stand up, and leave the room as well. Stepping out into the hallway, I can see Ms. Bitchy greeting what I can only assume are friends. I scoff, digging my hands into my pockets as I try to leave the building as quickly as possible.  
To be real? I shouldn't have asked for a favor from her. I knew the risks, but I still did it. And now, I'm in debt to her. Damnit.  
Pulling my notepad out from my pocket, I run through what I did today.  
  
 _Drop off some miscellaneous drugs at 2:00 PM..._ done, with minimal exposure to the recipient.  
 _Meet with some shady gang in an alleyway at 4:00_ PM... done, and survived. They tried to strongarm me into a bullshit agreement about... something. I already forgot, it wasn't important.  
 _Negotiate a better deal with the_ _Boss at 5:24 PM..._ done, but failed.  
 _Work for UberEats between 5:30 and 9:00_ PM... done. I got a few tips, which is pretty nice. I would usually save it for some of my personal expenses, but _someone_ wants their money.  
 _Talk to Ms. Bitchy at 11:00 PM..._ done, with a minor headache.  
 _Go to that mansion at 11:10_ _PM.  
  
_ I stopped at that last note. It was the last thing I needed to do today, but... I'm pretty apprehensive about it. Anyone that knows my whole ass name, and allegedly knows about my parents... well, they've made the top of my shit list, that's for sure.  
The envelope showed up this morning, and... well, it definitely creeped me out. I haven't told anyone my full name for years now. Just my last name, which, fortunately, everyone thinks is my first name. Anyway, that envelope... it had my full name on the back. _Kuuja_ _Siddhis._  
  
It was written in cursive and everything. Even a fucking wax seal. Who uses wax to seal letters anymore, anyway? This asshole, apparently.  
The letter itself? Also in cursive. Talked about knowing what happened to my parents, and them needing me to come to this abandoned mansion tonight. They aren't being very subtle, for someone obviously trying to off me... but, them mentioning my parents? Really?  
  
I couldn't tell if they were bluffing or not. The last I saw of my parents were when they were sending me to that damn private middle school. They promised to call that night, and no call came in. I thought they were just busy. So I waited. And I kept waiting. A year went by, and I was still waiting.  
I went home for summer, and the house... it was completely trashed. Blood everywhere and claw marks were all over the walls. Some of the walls were charred, too.  
  
So I ran. I ran back to the dorms, packed up my shit, and got my ass off the radar. Whoever came for my parents must've been coming for me, as well.  
The claw marks and charred walls are the most confusing to me. The claws weren't small enough for a dog, they were fucking massive... so what the hell happened in there? And who decided to burn the walls? The blood, too, was confusing. There weren't any bodies, or at least any remnants of bodies, but there was so much of the shit.  
  
I wanted to keep that whole thing buried. I didn't want to think about it, ever, and instead focus on this new, shitter life I got myself into. But now someone had to go and dredge that whole problem back up. Even if I get myself killed, I have to figure out how they know my full name, and what happened to my parents.  
I make my way to the abandoned mansion. The smell of exhaust fume and nicotine burns my nose, but I enjoy it. I would personally never smoke, but the smell of it was always soothing. Maybe one of my parents smoked...  
  
Cut it out. Stop thinking about them. You're a man on a mission, and you've got other, better things to be doing. The notepad may say otherwise, but opportunities are everywhere. You gotta take 'em as they come.  
Speaking of taking it as it comes, the abandoned mansion is in front of me. Two people are on the porch, and seem to be having an animated discussion about... something.  
One of them looks like a rabid child who's running away from home, and another looks like a bitchy teenager with blue highlights in their hair.  
  
Every part of my body wants to turn away from the oncoming stupidity, but I need to figure out what the fuck is going on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> introducing: kuuja siddhis, your friendly neighborhood hustler who has no time for you.


	5. Chapter 5

The night breeze is strong on the rooftops, yet, neither of us seem to notice it.  
We've been avoiding the two envelopes on the table between us for a while, instead choosing to bicker about other, random things that aren't these two pieces of paper. Lysithea looks perfectly content not mentioning them, taking a drag from her cigarette while looking down at the city.  
  
I'm choosing to look somewhere else as well. Instead of down towards all the people, I'm looking up at the sky. The light pollution makes it very difficult to see the stars, but I can just barely see some. Though, if it were anyone else looking for the stars, I doubt they'd be able to see them. I have especially good eyesight, not to toot my own horn.  
Even if we're both doing different things, I know that the two envelopes are weighing on our consciousnesses. It's difficult _not_ to think about them.  
  
The backs of the envelopes are facing up, and as I look at them, I can easily see the names on the back, written in cursive.  
_Ersa Himalia.  
Lysithea Himalia._  
The letter inside was a quick, concise message about the sender knowing what happened to our parents, and them needing us to come to some abandoned mansion late tonight.  
  
Both of us had our doubts, obviously. Lysithea had set her mind on believing that the message was just a trap to get us to come to the mansion and get ourselves killed.  
I always tried to find the positives in an arguably bad situation. Like... someone knows about what happened to our parents! Even if our home had been replaced by a crater in the ground, and two imprints in the dirt that looked like two people...  
  
...I'm trying to stay positive about it, but I can't help but slightly agree with Lysithea right now. I want to say that it's not a trap, but...  
I grab my letter, and skim it. Just to do something.  
"Ersa. Put that thing down." My sister from across of me makes herself known suddenly, still looking at the city below. She sounds angry.  
  
"Why though? It... it could be for real?"  
"Pft. Listen to yourself, you know already that it's not real."  
I can sense Lysithea's finality on this topic coming in full force. Her brow is furrowed, and she has this nasty frown on. Her cigarette hanging from her mouth seems to amplify this bad mood she has. I needed to do something to get her to believe me...  
Oh! I got it!  
"...Well, they knew our names, and where we live. If they wanted us dead, wouldn't they have... y'know, come for us already?"  
  
That gives Lysithea pause. Score one for Ersa, score zero for Lysithea!  
"That's... true... but, I'm still not risking it."  
"And do what? Sit at home, where they know we're at?"  
"..."  
"It... it would honestly just be better to go there! I-If we're dead women walking, might as well go out with a bang, right?"  
  
Lysithea sighs.  
"I hate how you're right."  
"I'm always right!" I start to smile.  
"Zip it." Lysithea stands up, and grabs her own envelope, stuffing it into her pocket. She tossed her cigarette off the side of the roof.  
"Stop littering."  
  
"I'll stop littering when you finally shut up."  
"...Drat. Guess you'll have to keep littering, huh?" I stand up as well, brushing down my knee-length skirt.  
"Can't wait." Lysithea led the charge from the rooftop, heading for the stairwell with me in tow.  
  
Looking at the back of Lysithea's head makes me look at her clothing. Honestly, I don't know when she started to wear leather jackets and jeans. She just kind of... was. Maybe it was a way to separate the both of us? To give herself her own personality? I remember a time that she was just like me, happy and a little clueless. I guess... I guess our parents disappearing was too much for her.  
  
One thing that won't change, though? Our hair. It's a strange thing, but we have exactly the same hair color, dirty blonde. One of the perks of being identical twins. Though... Lysithea grew hers out.  
Wait. Why am I even thinking like this? I guess we're most likely dying tonight, so maybe I'm just reminiscing on the past.  
I wonder what Lysithea is thinking about.

* * *

This? Yeah, this. This is fucking stupid. Why does Ersa have to be the smart one out of the two of us? It's such a pain.  
We're on the road to the abandoned mansion, and looking at Ersa's face, she has no fear. Or, at least, she isn't showing it. She was always the better twin. She could see a man get killed in front of her and she probably wouldn't scream, while most would probably cry in a corner and cower.  
  
Am I saying that I wouldn't? No, I absolutely would cry in a corner and cower. Just don't tell Ersa that.  
I shake my head. First, I have to deal with Ersa, now my thoughts are being stupid? I'm surrounded by idiots.  
...Speaking of being surrounded by idiots, we've arrived at the mansion, and there are people arguing on the front porch.  
  
A kid with long, messy hair and a bag is harassing some adult in a college sweater, and someone with blue highlights in their hair is egging on the kid.  
I look at Ersa, and I can see that damn look in her eye. It's that look that says "I'm going to make friends with everyone here, and nobody can stop me".  
"Ersa."  
  
"W-What?"  
"Stop that."  
"Stop what?"  
"You know what I'm talking about."  
"...No."  
  
Ersa starts walking toward the group, and I force myself to follow her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> introducing: the twins, ersa and lysithea himalia, identical in appearance, yet completely different in personality


	6. Chapter 6

The ceiling, is as always, the same. Why am I like this? Why can't I just go outside? Why do I confine myself to my room, and do nothing all day? I could be meeting people. I could have a job. I could be happy.  
But meeting people is scary. Having a job means that people are relying on you. Happiness isn't around forever. So... I guess that answers my question. As long as I am like this, I won't be happy. Will I do anything to change it?  
Probably not. In my room, I'm perfectly safe from any and all social interactions. I don't need people to live my life, I just need myself, my computer, my phone and...  
I sigh. God, I'm a fucking disappointment.

I raise my hand toward the ceiling and let it fall beside my head. I feel... paper? I grab the offending object and bring it to my face.  
Oh. Right. The letter. The one that said that the sender knows what happened to my parents. The same parents that sent me away eight years, and didn't even keep in touch with me. I wasn't even aware that something had happened to them. All I remember was them panicking over something, and saying that I had to go. I was nine fucking years old. What do you mean I have to go?!  
Either way, they at least made sure that I had enough money to survive for several years, and had an education. I breezed through all the schoolwork and the money? Well, it was nearly out. I have about three weeks left until I have to do something about it.

I had hoped that they had a reason for it all. But they never told me. And now here I am, years after abandoning their last name, it's being brought up again. I look at the back of the envelope.  
 _Furud Lentra._ Cursive writing.  
To be real, I kind of forgot about the call to that weird abandoned mansion until now. I haven't made a decision on if I wanted to go or not. On one hand, I could finally figure out why my parents did what they did, but on the other hand, I could stay in my room and be safe.   
My stomach growls. I suddenly remember that I haven't really eaten anything today. Sighing, I sit up, the blankets that covered me falling to my legs. For a while, I'm content with just staring at the blankets, and not getting up to go eat.  
  
But then I remember that promise I made to myself. That one about eating at least once a day. If nothing else, I never go back on any promises I make.  
...I haven't made many promises because of that. But this one? This one is to keep me alive. I stand up, and leave my room. The rest of my apartment is bare and uninteresting, just like my room. I don't really have any personal keepsakes, or much of anything, really. Just the odd bookshelf and a few seats. It's not like I spend any real amount of time out here, anyway.  
I enter my kitchen, and open my cupboards, finding... nothing. Huh.  
I turn around, and open my fridge door, and a whole lot of nothing stares back at me.  
  
...Shit. I forgot to do my groceries today. I close the fridge door, leaning against it, and let out a long-winded groan. I could always order takeout, but that's delaying the inevitable time of me needing to go out to get groceries.   
I guess today... today is the day that I have to break my promise to myself. I push myself off of the fridge, heading to my room and picking up my phone, ordering something to eat.   
I look at my bed, and see the letter sitting on my pillow, where I left it.  
  
Guess I'll have to disappoint whoever was expecting me. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> introducing: furud lentra, a shutin who really doesnt want anything to do with you.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> now the story can ACTUALLY start

I watched the scene unfold in front of me. Everything just kind of... happened. A kid came up to me, wearing a white t-shirt, a dark green jacket wrapped around his waist, and cargo shorts. He was fairly fit and his hair was really messy, though it wasn't long. He asked me if I was the one who sent them the letter. Though, his English wasn't exactly the greatest... I'm guessing he's foreign. Anyway, I said no, and the kid brought up his own letter. It looked similar to mine, though I couldn't see what his name was, as he was waving the damn thing around too much.   
Then, someone else came up. Some tired-out guy who just got out of his teenage years, wearing a gray college branded hoodie, dark pants, and what looked like... red contact lenses? Anyway, the kid saw the first guy come up as well, and the kid had the nerve to start threatening him. Either way, he started threatening the guy to go away. The guy protested as much as possible, showing him a similar letter to mine and the kids. Regardless, the kid kept going at him, forcing him against the house's wall. To be honest? I thought it was kind of funny, so I started cheering the kid on, resulting in him really getting in the guy's face. It looked like it was about to escalate, though, as the guy started to sound a little angry.  
  
Then, two girls rolled up, and that caused more issues. The first girl was wearing a cream-colored sweater and a knee-length skirt. Her hair was short and blonde. The second girl, though, was the complete opposite of that. An unzipped black leather jacket, a navy-blue undershirt, and long blonde hair. The kid looked torn between fighting the guy and telling the girls to go away. The guy looked like he was about to punch out the kid, but didn't want to do it in front of so many people. But then, the girl with shorter hair asked for all of our names, and that threw us all through a loop, the girl's companion included.  
And so, here we are, the kid with his hands on the guys' collar, the guy with raised fists, and me looking very confused.  
"...Uh. Our names?" I asked.  
"Yeah! Your names. I'm guessing that we're all here for the same reason, so it would be nice to get to know each other a little." The girl put on a smile, while her companion (friend? Sister?) frowned, saying nothing.

"Uhh... I'm Esther Estrellia." I stuffed my hands into my cropped jacket pockets. I looked at the kid, and he stepped away from the guy.  
"I am Rayet." He went quiet after that, and looked in my general direction. Did he think I was asking him?  
The guy scratched the back of his neck. "Siddhis... Kuuja Siddhis." Did he have to say it like he was some kind of spy?  
The three of us looked at the short-haired girl. "My name is Ersa Himalia. Nice to meet you all." She looked at her companion. "C'mon...!"  
She sighed. "I'm Lysithea Himalia." She had this nasty scowl, like telling us her name was a sin.  
  
"So... we're all here for the same reason, right? We've all got letters?" I ask, taking out my own letter and holding it up. A unanimous "yeah" rings out, with everyone bringing out their own letters. "'Kay, just checkin'." I turn to the front door. Just like the rest of the house, it's all mangled. Parts of the door are splintered and rotten, and the doorknob looks like it's about to fall off. Though... there's a golden knocker affixed to the door. It's completely clean and looks totally out of place. I grab it and knock on the door twice. My knocks practically shake the entire porch, and I wasn't even using my full strength on it.  
Stepping back into the group, an oppressive aura sets in. The hairs on the back of my neck raise, and I think I feel something watching me. Looking at everyone else, it seems that everyone feels the same way. Rayet, though, doesn't look scared at all. Weird.  
Staring at the door makes me feel uneasy. Anything could be behind that. I'm not one to believe in ghosts 'n shit, but... I wouldn't be surprised if this place was haunted.  
...But, nothing happens. No footsteps come from behind the door, and the door doesn't even open creepily on its own. Releasing a breath I didn't even know I was holding, I step back up to the door.   
"Heh... that was pretty anti-climatic."

"...Maybe whoever called us here isn't here anymore?" Kuuja suggests. I can hear him lean against one of the porch's supports, judging from how the entire thing creaks in protest.  
"If nothing opened the door, then nobody's here," Looking at the door, I look at the doorknob. Surely, it should be locked... right? Wrapping my hand around it, I can feel how easy it would be to rip the damn thing off. Carefully, I turn the handle, and I hear a small click. "So, I'll be taking my lea-"  
The door makes a loud squeak as I open it.  
"...Hm."

Beyond the doorway was a rundown hallway. Several glass lamps line the way across the walls, but they're all shattered and broken in different ways. The glass from said lamps covers a dusty carpet, and simply looking at it makes me think of how many diseases could be residing on this carpet.  
"Welp." Stretching my arms, I step from the porch and into the hallway. "Guess we gotta check if anyone's home, right?"  
"Hey, are you insane or something?!" I hear Lysithea protest behind me.  
"Yeah! You don't just walk into someone's possible home... or, well, squatting spot." Kuuja protests as well, apparently he and Lysithea are taking the moral high-ground here. I spin on my heel, spreading my arms out. "Little bit insane, maybe, but c'mon! This is an abandoned mansion! Nobody is going to care. Let's go!"  
  
Rayet steps forward, crossing the threshold without question.   
"See? He gets it!"   
Ersa looks excited, entering the mansion.   
"It won't be that bad, surely. Come on, Lysithea!~"  
Lysithea scoffs, looking at Ersa.   
"Psycho." Regardless, she follows suit.  
I stare down Kuuja. "...Sooooo... you too chicken to come along?"

"...No. Just thinking about how I'm surrounded by insane people." He comes forward, and I suddenly realize how small the hallway actually is.  
"Welcome to the party of insane people, Kuuja!" I slap him on the back, walking forward. He yelps, and mutters something.   
Leading the way, the mansion continues to be as decrepit as it was on the outside. The mustiness of the mansion is overpowering, and the smell? Out of this world. It smells like someone dumped a few hundred assorted corpses into a landfill, and left it for five years. Yet, our ragtag group continues to move forward.  
...That is, until I notice something. There's this painting that fell off the wall, and it looks awfully familiar. Crouching down, I examine it. It's a painting of a ship out at sea. The canvas is all sliced up, though.  
  
I feel someone come up behind me. Whipping my head around, it's just Rayet.  
"Christ, you nearly gave me a heart attack."  
"...Have you find something?" He sounds too old to be talking like that. Is he foreign, or is he just inept?  
"Uh, well, I'm not really sure. I feel like I've seen this painting before..." I gesture to it, and Rayet looks closely at it.  
While he's looking at it, I look behind us.  
  
"Wait. What the fuck?"   
"Hm? Ah-" Rayet looks up, and we both look at this strange sight.  
The front door is right behind us. Kuuja, Ersa, and Lysithea are nowhere to be seen.  
"...That is... what?"  
"This IS some horror movie bullshit! Where did they go?!"  
  
"I-I am not sure. They were behind me."  
"We have to find them! Come on!" I stand up, grabbing Rayet by the wrist and running through the hallway. We have to find them. I'm not about to be responsible for three disappearances!   
Once I'm sure Rayet is keeping up, I let go of his wrist. We run side by side down the hallway, our footsteps booming through the hallway. Eventually, I have to start slowing down, and that's when I see it.   
The damn painting. The same painting, in the exact same position, torn up in the same places. Coming to a full stop and crouching by the painting, I look behind us, and there it is. The front door.  
"No... no, no, goddamnit. KUUJA! ERSA! LYSITHEA! COME BACK!" I yell down the hallway, and it simply echoes. There's no response. My voice sounds awfully hoarse...  
  
"...I will continue search." Rayet runs off.   
"Wait! No! Hold on-" I try following him, but I trip on the fucking painting. Yelping, I tumble to the ground. Being careful of any glass, I get up, and Rayet is nowhere to be seen. We're... we're literally being picked off one by one.  
Looking back at the front door, and into the hallway, I have to make a choice. Either save myself, or find out what happened to everyone.  
...I have to keep looking. I can't leave people behind. I barely know these people, but right now, saving them is my top priority. I take one step down the hall, but something... _feels_ different. The way the flooring reacts to my footstep feels off. It sounds more solid, like an actual floor. Looking down, the... carpet doesn't look so dusty. It's a brilliant red, with gold accents. Looking up, I'm staring right into a bright light. Closing my eyes, I step back, and re-open my eyes.  
...The mansion... repaired itself? The lamps have been fixed, and none of the walls look like they're rotting. Looking around, the hall is filled with paintings, including the one with the ship at sea. No rips or tears are on the canvas'. Everything looks like it was put in this hall literally yesterday.  
  
Looking back, the front door isn't rotting. I step outside, and the mansion... it looks good as new. Not a single splinter anywhere. There's even some chairs on the porch, and a small table. What the hell is going on...?  
It... it doesn't matter. I have to find everyone! I run back inside, and continue down the hall. Eventually, I come to the end of the hallway, without it looping. There's a closed-door at the end, and I don't slow down. I hear voices behind it, but I'm determined to find my new friends.  
Crashing through the door, I shout. "GUYS, WHERE... uh... are... you."   
Everyone is here, and looking at me. There's a new guy, too... an old man. He looks pretty damn old. He's got more wrinkles than I think any man could possibly have, and surprisingly long white hair. He's well dressed, though, wearing a black suit, tie, and white undershirt. The suit has gold accents near the sleeves and collar, and it looks pretty damn good. Who knew an old man could pull off a fit like this?  
But the old man himself... christ. You could notice him walking into a room, not because of his footsteps, but because of his sheer presence. It demands respect from you, and I'm slightly inclined to give that respect.  
  
"Thank god!" Ersa rushes forward, and attack-hugs(?) me. "We thought we lost you and Rayet!"   
"Wh... What? Me and Rayet thought we lost you guys!"   
"We thought we lost each other. Leave it at that." Kuuja interjects, prematurely ending the tirade of "no, we lost you" between me and Ersa. "Besides, there's more important matters to attend to, like this old man..." Ersa lets go of me, and everyone turns to the old man.  
"What do you know about our parents, old man?" Kuuja seems to be taking hold of the situation. "How did mine disappear?"  
  
"Wait, your parents disappeared too?"   
"Mine did too..."  
"Same here."  
"Mhm."  
"...Well." Kuuja closes his eyes, and re-opens them. "How did our parents disappear, and why do you know?"   
  
We all wait for a response. The room is dead silent.   
The old man clears his throat.  
"I was close to all of your parents. That is all I can tell you, as of now." The old man's voice, too, demands respect. It's rather loud and booming, and he could easily cut people off if he wanted to.  
"What do you mean that's all you can tell us? We came here for that one reason, y'know!" I'm slightly miffed about this. About all of this, really. A strange, crazy-ass mansion, and now this guy doesn't even tell us what we want to hear? Bullshit!  
"Have patience, hatchlings. The time will come."   
  
"...H-Hatchlings...? The fuck...?" Lysithea sounds confused. Or disgusted. Maybe both. "We're people, you know... not some bugs."   
"For now, I need you all to come close. It's the only way to keep this world in order."  
"...What the hell are you talking about? Why would we want to get closer to you?" Kuuja backs up a step. Looking over at Rayet, I can't read his expression. It's... neutral, as far as I can tell.  
"I am the only one you have left to trust, after all."  
"That's... that's bullshit! We've got plenty of people to trust!" I take a step forward, trying to assert dominance. If push comes to shove, I could easily beat this old ma-  
  
"Like whom?"   
Shit. "...Uh. Uhm..."  
"Precisely. Now, if you please, come close."  
"...N-No...! You're going to hurt us, surely!" Ersa sounds slightly scared, if anything. It's a stark contrast to her attitude back on the porch. Maybe temporarily losing us all made her lose her wit.  
"If I wanted you all dead, you wouldn't have survived one year of your life, much less one day."  
An overpowering aura sets in over the room as the old man stares us down. It's threatening, but something tells me that nothing... nothing should go bad. I mean, this guy knew where I lived for fucks-sake. If he wanted me dead, I'd probably already be gone...  
  
Rayet walks over to him.  
"Wait, Rayet-"  
"He is telling truth."   
"...How can you be so sur-"  
"I know he is."  
  
I feel the old man staring directly at me. A sense of complete primal fear takes over. I want to run, and hide from this guy's gaze. I... I hate to say it, but I'm intimidated. And I don't get intimidated easily.  
He doesn't let up on his stare.   
"...Mmh. D-Damnit." Legs shaking, I step forward, coming to stand behind Rayet.  
"Good..."  
Slowly, we're all standing close to the old man.  
"Excellent. I must apologize, this _will_ hurt."  
"Wait, what-"  
  
The old man raises his arm, and swipes over all of our heads.  
A black haze covers the room. I can't see. It hurts. Why does the top of my head hurt? It feels like something is coming out of my skull. Two things coming out of my skull. What's happening? I think I fell over. I can't move. It hurts so badly. Have I passed out? Am I awake? Am I even alive? I feel two things emerging from my skull. I don't know what they are. All I know is that they hurt. They hurt really badly. They want to do something. They want to break something. What the hell is going on?   
Why am I still awak-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for reading so far, i hope this is enjoyable  
> remember, criticism is Wanted, along with comments in general


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